Distance
by Adeleheid
Summary: "Just come back to me," he whispered, mind full of visions and nightmares, "…you promised."
1. No Words

There are no words.

No words as she lay across the hospital bed, aching—screaming, like her skin was on _fire._ Crying out, begging them to put out the flames that scorched her very soul…to put her out of her misery.

No words as the strongest woman they knew lay helpless, haunted by nightmares…calling out the names of fallen comrades, preaching what could have been…

No words.

"_I'm proud of you."_

Her eyes tear away from him and she glances down at her bloodied, broken hand…drinking it all in. Her other hand clamps tightly around her abdomen as warmth spreads through her. It's uncomfortable, and she understands what it means for her body because she has felt it once before…clutching her throat, suffocating in the silent bowels of space.

He wants to reach out. To hold her quivering hand, and smooth over her exposed wounds and flesh—but he can't. It's a distant memory of the past, and he has to be there for her _now_ if anything else. But as he sees that vulnerable look wash over his lover's face his heart breaks in two.

After a moment, her hand flops to her side and she sighs shakily, directing her gaze out towards the galaxy. Sadness overwhelms her, seeing a planet she once called her home –suffocating in the silent bowels of space. It hits too close to home—and her heart breaks in two.

"_There…Earth. I wish you could see it like I do, Shepard. It's so…perfect…"_

It is, perhaps, the only thing they have ever agreed on. She briefly wonders if it's at all even _fair_ for her to have such feelings. She, who had been racing about the galaxy all this time…only to appear now, when people like _him_ have been desperately trying to save their homes every second of every _day…_

_She_ who was now more synthetic than organic…

Was it fair for her to look upon her home planet, and feel as though she were _there_ with the buildings crumbling around her?

Was she even human?

"…_.does this unit have a soul?"_

"Do I?"

"_You're real enough to me."_

And for the first time in her long, arduous service—she weeps. She bows her head, and begins a soft chant a friend had once taught to her only a few weeks ago,

"_Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention. Guide this one to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one, Kalahira, and he will be a companion to you as he was to me."_

"Kaidan."

It's Kaidan's turn to weep. He sits, slumped—frail and battered in his chair as he recedes back into the here and now, clutching his lover's broken hand.

"**Kaidan,**" Liara insists, placing a hand upon his shoulder, pulling him from their beloved leader's mind. He hisses, startling as if awoken from a deep sleep by something as familiar as an alien ship blowing through his beloved Normandy like butter.

He can almost hardly believe it as he comes to, idly scratching at the back of his neck for a tube that wasn't there—feeling as though he were choking. It had all felt so real, so tangible…so…

He looks down at Shepard.

Had she been hiding these feelings the whole time? And now, how could he have been so blind?

"God, Shepard," he moans tiredly, ignoring Liara's pestering questions—mind melding was often taxing, especially for humans. But he had no intention of ripping himself away, now that he knew—now that he had seen what she had seen, "Jane…"

He presses a sad, longing kiss to the inside of her wrist, and then places it against his forehead as he leans forward in his chair.

"Just come back to me," he whispered, mind full of visions and nightmares, "…you promised."


	2. Burning

It isn't long before Kaidan delves back in again, despite Liara's protests; despite _everyone's _protests.

"You don't understand," he would whisper, "_I need this._"

"That doesn't mean it's _helping_, Kaidan," Liara would chide him, touching his shoulder.

It didn't matter. Nothing she ever said would change his slowly deteriorating mind. He would rather be with her in her memories than there with her in her present. To sit there in that chair and watch her lifeless body in the hospital bed was more than he could bear—more than he could deal with. This woman, whom he loved—lay helpless and motionless. He decided he would give _anything_ just to see those intense eyes again, full of so much fire and gumption…even if it meant his own risking his own health.

And so, here he was.

"I don't care."

A rush of blood, a sharp intake of breath, and then a quiet hum later and Kaidan was there.

_"Shepard?"_

Blackness greets his eyes when he finally opens them. He blinks once—twice…then he recognizes it. He recognizes the faint twinkling in the distance as the shuttle speeds away from its origin.

"_All seems so calm from up here…"_

His head turns to the right ever so slightly when he hears his own voice echoing in his mind. That's when he sees _her._ He knows it's her, but he also knows better than to assume. Shepard sits across from him, but it's a Shepard he has never met—and the way she looks just about knocks the wind out of him. It's a younger Shepard, scarred, battered and bleeding all over the floor. Despite all this, however, she sits in a chair by the window of the shuttle—staring out into empty space, eyes dead and lifeless. Her frail hands grasp tightly at a small piece of paper, tearing it nearly in half despite their appearance. Upon closer inspection, he notices it is a picture. And he notices that she is crying.

"I'm sorry about your parents," comes a masculine voice from the head of the ship. Shepard doesn't say anything, and continues to stare out into space. The man signs when he realizes he won't be getting a response from her, and continues, "…but it's okay. We're—going to Earth now. Surely you have some family there?"

He cranes his neck to see what's on the picture, despite his less than physical form, and is startled a bit when she stuffs the photo into her chest, clutching it sadly. She begins to weep. From the corner of his eye, he sees the planet they are speeding away from.It's on fire, burning from bottom to top—Alliance ships surround it. Suddenly, his stomach lurches and he gasps at the familiar sensation of his heart resonating.

"_Mindoir was my home!"_

Then it hits him. A pang of guilt rings through him. Shepard had saved Tuchanka and Rannoch, and watched Thessia fall. She made the decision to condemn an entire race to death just to save the rest of the galaxy.

And above all, Shepard had had to watch her home burn not once, but twice.

She begins to scream.

It's like lightning that strikes him when he's thrown from her mind.

Coming out of these visions for Kaidan is like coming out of a long tunnel. The sounds around him are blurred and distorted, and his vision is like a sudden light that blinds him. First he sees the doctors running past him, their white twisting and tangling in front of him as they bumped past him insistently. Beeping noises cause his head to spin, fueling the migraine that is beginning to flourish in his head as he stares blankly ahead of him. Then he sees Liara come into view, shaking him feverishly as she prods him with questions. He ignores her in his confusion, being pushed back by another forceful bump from a doctor who stopped just in front of him—in front of _her_—

And then he hears her.

Shepard.

_Screaming._


End file.
